Caught Red Handed
by Abscise Jeers
Summary: What will happen once Patrick Jane starts pointing out certian things to Agent Van Pelt? What will become of Rigsby and Van Pelt's relationship now? This will be a multi-chapter story set anytime after "Russet Potatoes".
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist. (But we all like to pretend we do for a while. That's why we write fanfiction.)**

"Time is free, but it's priceless.

You can't own it, but you can use it.

You can't keep it, but you can spend it.

Once you've lost it, you can never get it back. "

-Harvy MacKay

"Listen, this has been going on for long enough. I will not watch another girl die because we don't have enough evidence to convict this guy. There has to be something we are missing." Agent Theresa Lisbon said from the far end of the table in the CBI conference room. Patrick Jane sat to her right playing with the toothpick left over from his hero sandwich. Agent Van Pelt sat directly across from him, watching, fascinated by how it was moving without him touching it. Agent Rigsby sat beside her, smiling a lopsided grin as he watched her concentrate. Cho, who was sick of Jane's antics, not to mention Rigsby's lovesick daydreaming, let out a humph.

"Jane," Lisbon snapped suddenly, "You're not paying one bit of attention." Jane snapped up, clearly startled.

"I was paying attention. You want more evidence. We're missing something. People are dying in the world. Men are awful. Yada, yada, yada." He said, watching Lisbon get more angry by the second. Jane shrugged his shoulders, and Van Pelt smiled slightly.

"I was paying more attention than Rigsby." He pointed out blankly. Grace Van Pelt's smile immediately faded, and was replaced by red cheeks. Rigsby almost choked on his water. Cho sighed.

"Can we look at the location chart again, boss?" Cho asked, changing the subject. Lisbon's face downgraded from irate to slightly irritated.

"Yeah." She said, throwing a few copies of the chart into the middle of the table. Reaching for one of the charts Rigsby brushed Van Pelts hand. He instantly apologized.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "you can see it first." She smiled at him, and it reminded him again how much he loved it when she smiled.

"We can share." She replied scooting closer to him. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair. He looked longingly at Jane, who gave him an weak smile that seemed almost like he was impressed. Jane watched the two of them interact, noticing how many times Rigsby smiled while he was around her. And how many times she would catch his eye and then look away. He noticed how she was sitting, and how her body was turned towards Rigsby's. He noticed how her knee would brush his thigh as they shifted position, and how she would roll her eyes at him and smile. But also how she always looked so alert when he spoke to her, her eyes wide and bright. And how she would fix her shirt or skirt, or hair around him, but never worry about it any other time. About the time that Grace laid a hand on Rigsby's forearm to reach across him for a pencil, he grunted uncomfortably.

"Uh...Boss...we've been at this for over an hour, can we take a break?" He asked softly.

"Five minutes." Lisbon said in an extremely serious tone. Jane knew that something about this case was really bothering her, and he made a mental note to ask her later. But for now he had some questions for a certain red haired member of the CBI.

"So, did you tell Rigsby yet?" Jane asked her quietly. She looked completely taken aback and slightly embarrassed.

"Excuse me?" She asked, hoping that she had heard him wrong, but knowing that she hadn't. Jane gave her that look, the one that said _I know you're lying. _

"Did you tell Agent Rigsby that you're in love with him yet?" Jane asked more clearly.

"I... I am not...I'm not in love with him." She responded.

"Don't lie, Grace. You really are awful at it. How do you think I knew that you were attracted to him in the first place? Want to know how I know?"

"Oh please enlighten me." She said sarcastically, hoping that he wouldn't enlighten her.

"Okay," he said, acting smart, "You turn towards him constantly, which may be involuntary. It doesn't really make a difference. You straighten your shirt, or fix your collar, or play with your hair. That's a sure sign of interest. You hardly ever cross your legs around him, and if you do ,your toe is always pointed toward him. It's kind of like pointing toward what you want. You glance sideways at him if you walk away first, to see if he's looking. As if he's not looking, he's always looking." He paused there to let her speak. She'd been trying to throw words in since he started.

"Okay , so my hair is irritating sometimes, and I only cross my legs if I'm wearing a skirt..." Jane cut her off there.

"You do wear skirts pretty often when you know you're working with him." He interjected.

"I like skirts. They're comfortable yet dressy."

"Yeah okay, let me finish." He started again. She rolled her eyes at him.

"You play with shoes. You slip them on and off and whatnot."

"Mr. Jane, obviously you have never worn heels." She retorted.

"I have no need to, I'm not trying to seduce Agent Rigsby." He said grinning. Grace glared at him. He was beginning to cross the line.

"Oh come on! You have no need to wear heels, you're tall enough. You could wear flats but you know Rigsby likes heels. Every guy likes heels more, they're seductive. You chew on your bottom lip..."

"Nervous habit." She snuck in.

"Exactly. You get nervous around him. You tend to play with your bottle of water or anything else...cylindrical, and you can figure that one out on your own." She blushed after the statement hit home.

"You smile every time he talks to you, or looks at you. And then you look down, reflecting on it. It's all key. Oh, and you keep your hands palm up, that has to do with being open."

"You know what Mr. Jane, my personal life is really none of your business." She said almost giving in to the argument.

"I know, I know there are rules and you like your job...and whatever other excuse you come up with. And I don't know how bad high heels hurt, but I do know about time. You NEVER have enough time. Even if you think you have enough time, you don't. You two have high risk jobs. Plus, if he keeps diving into flaming buildings, or beating up psychopaths in the mens room, you're not going to have him long. So why not take "try to impress Grace" off of his list of reasons to do dangerous things. Oh, and take "try to make Rigsby jealous by dating deranged lunatics" off of yours."

"Lisbon would never allow--" He cut her off.

"That's the thing though, Grace, if it is supposed to happen, things will fall into place eventually. I may not believe in God, but I believe in fate. That's how I know we will eventually catch Red John."

"If I was in love with him–which I'm not, what would you advise me to do? Preferably something that's not going to get me fired." She asked.

"Did you ever thank him for the whole Dan thing? Or did you reassure him that you weren't mad at him for the hypnotized fiasco?"

"No. I didn't. I didn't want to end up..." She started, but was interrupted by Jane mid sentence.

"You didn't want to end up admitting anything. Like the fact that you care about him more than you put on...WAY more than you put on." Jane said smiling.

"I know he would rather me not bring it up." She replied truthfully. Jane slumped a bit looking at her knowingly.

"I know he would rather you not bring it up either, but you need to. Probably because it is eating you up inside. You go over those scenes in your head over and over. The one where he kissed you, or where you were so glad he was safe. Dan could have killed him, you know."

"Yes I know! How could I not know?" She replied getting upset. Jane put a hand on her shoulder and then turned to leave.

"It's up to you, Grace." He said and walked away.

Grace sat back down at the conference room table. Lisbon, Cho, and Jane were already going through the brown evidence box. She wondered where Rigsby was; he knew he had to be back in five minutes. She needed coffee. She had been out at the house this morning, and now she was starting to get a headache. It couldn't possibly be because of what had Jane said. She put her head in her hands and pretended to go over the accident report.

"I said five minutes Agent Rigsby!" Lisbon chirped from the end of the table. Normally she wouldn't have cared about a minute and a half difference, but she was already irritated.

"Sorry boss." He said, embarrassed that the whole group was looking at him eyebrows raised. Rigsby slid a cup of coffee across the table at Van Pelt who could have kissed him right there. Had he really been late because he ran to get her coffee? How did he know she needed coffee? She never mentioned it. She looked up at him quizzically.

"You looked like you had a headache. Nine times out of ten, if you have a headache it's either because Jane is particularly annoying today, or you need coffee. Jane's been fairly well behaved today, don't you think?" He whispered. She wondered exactly how much time he'd been spending with Jane.

"Can you stay late today?" She asked him. There was a hint of quiver in her voice. For once she didn't back out, but she didn't offer him a reason either. He looked at her, surprised by her sudden forwardness.

**Okay so here's chapter 1. What did you think? I do have the next three chapters written, but I am still working on editing them. I would love for you review, but in reality, I don't get to review to everything I would like to, just due to the time factor. I hardly have time to read everything I want, let alone review to it all. But if you do have time, I would a****ppreciate**** feedback. Since it is just nice fluff you never know what might show up if you suggest it. We don't have a lot of Rigsby/Van Pelt fanfics, so if there's something you would like to see, mention it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! I really appreciate it.**

**I will eventually delve deeper into the case in later chapters, but for now I kind of like the fluff. **

"Yeah." He said suddenly. She smiled at the fact that he didn't even ask why. He really would do anything for her. There was just something about him, maybe his size, that just made her feel so protected. She never had to worry about anything, because she knew that he would protect her. The next two hours moved slowly. Lisbon had been right. There just wasn't enough information to convict. Cho's eyes started burning from staring at the accident report.

"Boss." Cho said pointing to the clock. It was after 9. Lisbon sighed, she didn't want to stop, she just felt close to...something. She was sure that as soon as she stopped looking, there would be another call about another murder.

"Okay. We'll start on this again tomorrow." Cho rubbed his eyes, and grabbed his coat. He walked with Lisbon out towards the parking lot. Jane discreetly touched Grace's shoulder, giving her encouragement. He caught up with Cho and Lisbon at the door. Rigsby just sat there trying to breath. He had been nervous ever since she mentioned staying late. She was probably going to chew him out for something, probably from when he was hypnotized. Or tell him to leave her alone, he was so afraid that was what it was.

"Rigsby, we need to talk...um...about things..." Grace said, avoiding his eyes. He went white, it was coming, he could tell.

"Why don't we take a walk?" He asked, pointing down the hall. She smiled and started walking with him. He inhaled deeply.

"So what did you want to talk about?" He asked. She blushed, and started rambling about how she really didn't want to ask, but how she needed to know. He cut her off.

"Van Pelt, just ask me." She took a deep breath.

"What exactly did you say to Dan in the bathroom that night?" It was his turn to blush and avoid eye contact. _Well basically that I love you._ He thought.

"I um...told him...um...that you...I told him to treat you right...because you mean a lot to...the unit. And then I may have threatened him...a little...with pain...if he did...ah...hurt you." Rigsby stammered. Her eyes softened at the edges.

"You really think I mean a lot to the unit?" She asked truthfully. He dropped his jaw.

"Of course you do! How could you even think that you don't? You're the only one that can get information quick enough. Things never ran so smoothly until you started. We all lo–ve you." His cheeks blushed as he finished the sentence. She smiled, and let out a small laugh before throwing her arms around him. He just stood there for a moment unsure, and then gradually left his chin rest on the top of her head. The memories flooded back quickly to the last time they were standing like this. She smiled happily and let out a small contented sigh, which he was surprised to hear. He wondered if it was going to end up like last time.

Their walk had led them outside the CBI building, and onto the front steps. Rigsby opened his eyes and glanced around for a janitor. As much as he wanted the moment to last forever, he cleared his throat. She leaned back a little bit, so she could see his face.

"Thank you, Rigsby. I really appreciate it. You, you could have been killed...I." He put a finger to her lips to quiet her.

"Sometimes we all need to be looked out for. I promise that I will never let anything happen to you." He said bravely. She dropped her arms and smiled. He looked at her quizzically.

"I really have to get home. It's getting late." She said uncertainly. He nodded his head sadly. He was hoping that, since he didn't see any janitors earlier, that this would be his moment.

"Rigsby, could you walk me to my car?" She asked sweetly. As they walked to the parking lot, she could hear Rigsby's stomach growling. He cursed. He knew it wasn't his fault he was a big guy with a fast metabolism, but it was so inconvenient. When they reached her car, he opened the door for her.

"Goodnight Rigsby, I'll see you tomorrow." She said softly. He smiled at her and shut the door.

"Goodnight Van Pelt." He said shyly. Quicky ,she reached toward the glove box and pulled out a Zip Lock baggy full of chips. As she rolled down the window, his face lit up. Could she really be giving him junk food?

"They're baked." She said, seeing his excitement. He didn't care, they were food. He took the baggy from her. He snuck another quick look behind him, looking for a potential mood ruiner. He quickly reached through the car window and kissed her cheek. She couldn't breath, she just froze there, lost in the moment. "Van Pelt, you really are amazing." He turned and walked toward his car. Grace sat there for a few minutes and smiled in the darkness. For once she was very thankful to Patrick Jane.

The next morning Grace arrived in great spirits, only to discover Rigsby and Cho had been sent out of town to handle a domestic dispute that may have been linked to a case earlier in the week. In a way she was sad that she didn't get to see him, but in another way, she was glad that she had more time to decide what to say.

* * *

Rigsby hated Cho's driving. It was too slow, and it made the ride back into town take forever. Normally the time would have passed more quickly with conversation, but Rigsby was too busy thinking to talk.

"Somebody had a good night." Cho said, noticing how Rigsby had been smiling to himself. Cho raised his eye brows as an indicator of what he actually meant by that. Rigsby gave him a stern look.

"Man, don't say that. I don't think about her that way." He said, clearly lying. Cho just gave him a blank stare.

"Whatever." The ride home was quiet. Rigsby was glad Cho was driving, since he couldn't concentrate on anything but what would happen when he got back to the bullpen. Gazing out the window, he suddenly asked Cho to stop the car. As he got out of the car, Kimball Cho sighed in disbelief.

"Are you really picking flowers?" He asked rolling his eyes, and mumbling something about how he couldn't believe it. Rigsby returned to the car holding two small sunflowers and a few sprigs of lavender.

"Sunflowers are Gra–Van Pelts favorite." He stated quickly, getting back into the car.

"No feelings there I see." Retorted Cho, giving Rigsby a sarcastic look. Rigsby rubbed the back of his neck.

"Listen, she gave me a snack yesterday and I want to say thank you. That's all." He explained.

"She always brings you snacks." Cho stated simply.

"Only to shut me up when we're on stakeouts. We didn't go yesterday because we spent all day reviewing the Anderson file. She just brought me food for no reason. And they were chips! Baked of course, but they still weren't carrots. She's amazing really." He said without thinking.

Cho replied sarcastically, "It must be love." Rigsby disregarded the comment.

"I kissed her."

"I know. I saw. The whole team saw." Cho said with no emotion. Rigsby shook his head.

"I mean again last night. And I was even fully conscious this time!" He said, clearly excited. Cho shook his head.

"I don't want to be around when Lisbon finds out." Rigsby didn't say anything. He didn't want to be there if Lisbon found out either. He didn't think she could really say anything though; it would be hypocritical of her. Rigsby knew she had a thing for Jane. If she didn't, she sure put up with a lot of his crap for no reason.

"Can we stop up ahead?" Rigsby said pointing to a store along the corner. At first Cho ignored him, but decided it was best to pull over.

"Did you see some more flowers?" He asked looking smug. Rigsby glared at him and replied. "No. I want to get ribbon."

"Ribbon?" Cho restated.

"Yeah, to tie around the flowers. You know, to keep them together. I was thinking red, or blue. No...purple." Cho just looked at him astonished, and refused to get out of the car. In a few minutes Rigsby returned with a roll of bright red ribbon. Cho reluctantly unlocked the car doors, letting him in.

"I thought you decided on purple." Cho said, not really caring. Rigsby eyed the flowers, holding the roll of ribbon up to the stems.

"They only had red. I think it still looks nice." He said, turning towards Cho for a second opinion. He only received a sarcastic insult.

"Whatever you say, Martha Stewart." The rest of the ride home, they were silent. When they reached the outside of the CBI building, Cho went straight in. Rigsby on the other hand, went around back to sneak past Van Pelt. Jane had been asleep on his couch, and only woke up after Cho tapped him on the shoulder.

"Back already?" Jane asked yawning. "Where's Rigsby?"

"Probably trying to curl ribbon." Cho replied as Jane looked at him quizzically.

"Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to just guess?" Jane shook his head.

"Flowers for our Miss Van Pelt." Jane stated.

Cho looked at him. A lot of the time he thought that Jane was full of bull, and shrugged off his knowledge without much thought, but today he felt the urge to ask.

"Okay, so how did you know?" Cho asked, looking interested. Jane smiled deviously.

"One, Rigsby would do anything to impress Van Pelt, including picking flowers along a four lane highway. Two, there are only so many things you buy ribbon for. And three, which is probably the most revealing reason, you smell like lavender."

"I told him to put the window down, but he thought that the wind would destroy the petals." Cho said, slightly amused, but mostly just ticked off.

"So where is he?" Jane asked pointing back the hall. Cho didn't even have time to answer before he heard cursing coming from a back room. Jane patted Cho on the shoulder and walked back the hall.

Agent Rigsby stood over the bouquet, measuring ribbon the length of his arm. He banged his fist on the table when the ribbon refused to curl for the umteenth time. Patrick Jane stifled a laugh as he picked discarded pieces of ribbon off the floor. Rigsby blushed when he saw Jane looking at him, smiling.

"Cho told you, huh?" He asked, clearly embarrassed. Jane shook his head.

"He didn't have to tell me. I think it's a good idea though. Flowers are meaningful gifts. But just out of curiosity, why did you pick those particular kinds?" He asked innocently enough. Rigsby contemplated a moment and then spoke.

"She loves sunflowers. They're her favorite. And she wears lavender vanilla perfume, so I know she likes the smell of lavender. Why? Do they have some secret meaning or something?" He asked quickly.

"All flowers have meanings. That's why they sell so many roses on Valentines Day. But I think you stayed pretty safe. Sunflowers typically promote adoration, and lavender signifies devotion. You are a devoted person who adores her." Jane said still smiling.

"Oh God." He moaned into his hands.

"Don't worry about it, those were good choices. It was sweet and subtle. You could have picked tuberose. Then, if she were to look it up, you would have been in trouble."

"Why on earth would she looked it up?" Rigsby questioned. Jane just shrugged in response. "I would." He stated blandly.

"She's not like you." Rigsby replied.

"I should hope not. That would be awkward." Jane said smiling.

"I meant paranoid enough to look up the meaning of flowers." Rigsby groaned.

"No, I suppose not." Jane said thoughtfully.

He could see that Rigsby felt a little better.

"Now, the reason that the ribbon won't curl is because you have too long a piece. Here, cut it there, now curl it." Jane said walking Rigsby through it.

"So, are you giving these to her when she comes back? She's running errands for Lisbon right now. She should be back in about a half an hour." Jane asked him. Rigsby shrugged.

"I was just going to lay them on her desk for when she comes back." He said giving a small smile.

"Good. Did you get a card?" Jane asked next. Rigsby shook his head.

"Then how will she know they were from you?" He asked. Rigsby cocked his head and looked at Jane blandly, as if saying _who the hell else would they be from?_

"True." Jane replied. Jane walked with Rigsby out into the bull pen, to get the flowers straightened on her desk. Patrick wanted to give Rigsby credit, the red ribbon really did look nice. He noticed that twenty five minutes later Rigsby was so nervous that he could barely breath. He kept tapping his fingers and scrolling up and down his computer screen. Jane sat a cup of tea on the edge of Rigsby's desk. Jane smiled as Rigsby jumped, clearly startled. As he looked up, thoroughly embarrassed, Jane was giving him a toothy grin.

**Okay, again, reviews are great. But no pressure....**


	3. Chapter 3

**Again thank you all for the wonderful reviews, and again, I appreciate them.**

**"It's a strange world of language in which skating on thin ice can get you into hot water."**

**-- Franklin P. Jones**

"Calm down. She's not even here yet. And she has way to much couth to walk up and thank you in front of the team. She would know that you would be embarrassed, and she would never do that." Jane said, quite amused by how nervous Rigsby actually was over this. Just as Jane made his way back over to his couch, Grace Van Pelt returned with her arms full of shopping bags, and a stack of paperwork on top that looked like it was ready to fall at any moment. Rigsby jumped up to help her, and she thanked him for offering to help unload in the break room. She sat the paperwork down on her desk an immediately picked up the flowers. A smile tugged at her lips as she ran a finger over the petals. She sat the flowers back down, and went to the kitchen, looking for something to put them in. She was glad that there happened to be a vase under the sink, left over from Lisbon's birthday party. She caught Wayne looking at her as she filled the vase with water. She smiled slightly, but by then he wasn't looking.

Grace was in a great mood for the rest of the day. Rigsby however, was a nervous wreck as the clock ticked closer to five. She was starting to worry about him; he hadn't looked up from his computer screen in almost two hours. Lisbon gave everyone the motion to leave. Jane smiled knowingly at Rigsby, who only replied with a nervous swallow. As the room cleared out, Van Pelt approached him, smiling sweetly. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you." She said brightly. He looked at her and gave her the lopsided grin that she loves.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you liked them. I know you like sunflowers best." He said, starting to talk faster. She inched closer to him.

"They're beautiful." She said, smiling slightly. He took a half step closer.

"I wanted to. You do so much for me, without me having to ask. And they were beautiful, and you....you deserved them". He wanted so much to say "and you're beautiful", but that would have been way to cliche.

"I...I." She stuttered, unsure of how to proceed. He leaned in a little closer to her, and she wanted so badly to lean into the kiss. She wanted nothing more than to give in and feel him against her, to feel warm and protected, and loved. She snapped back to reality within centimeters of his lips, when she heard a faint knock on the door frame. Patrick Jane stood leaning on his right shoulder.

"What are you two doing tonight?" He asked without hesitation. They looked at each other and then backed up a few inches. Both Rigsby and Van Pelt shrugged and looked back at Jane.

"We found out that Nicole Anderson was taking lessons at the ice skating rink by Nepal's restaurant. Lisbon wants us to go check it out." Grace smiled brightly. Rigsby's face dropped, knowing exactly what the rookie was going to ask.

"Do you think she'll let us skate?" She inquired hopefully. Jane nodded slightly amused.

"I don't see why not. We've been stewing over this case for two weeks without rest, and Lisbon needs a break whether she thinks so or not. Plus, we're not going until after they officially close to interview the owner, and he has to stay late anyway. And I kind of already asks if we could." Van Pelt was thrilled.

"Do we have time to go change?" She asked vibrantly. Jane smiled and turned towards Rigsby.

"Why don't you pick her up, and I'll grab Lisbon. We'll meet at the rink at 10:30ish." Rigsby instantly tensed as Jane turned to leave. Van Pelt crinkled her forehead in thought.

"Isn't Cho going?" She asked.

"He's going home to see his mom this weekend. Makes fun of me for picking flowers, but goes home to his mommy every weekend." Rigsby said with a chuckle.

"It's sweet." She replied and slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

* * *

The clothes on the bed were beginning to pile up. Grace Van Pelt sat at the base of her closet, throwing shirts behind her in a haphazardly manner. She let out a cry of disbelief. There in front of her was an entire closet of clothes, but yet she had nothing to wear. Any other time she would throw on a blouse and jeans and be fine, but tonight was different. It wasn't extremely warm out today so a sweater wasn't out of the question, but how attractive was a sweater? Then she decided that the payne's grey shirt with the scoop neck top would have to do. She put on a pair of jeans that were dark colored, and decided that she looked decent. Just as she took a deep breath, there was a knock on her door. Rigsby stood at her doorframe fidgeting wildly. She opened the door with a half smile. He loved that smile, because it made her look like she was up to something. He sucked in a breath, she really was stunning. Granted she could look lovely in a burlap sack, but he had to force himself to stop staring tonight. Her hair was curled slightly, but tied back, with pieces hanging around her face.

"Are you ready?" He asked, motioning towards the car. She nodded, and then remembered that she left her necklace on the coffee table. It was a silver necklace with three loops and a blue gem. He waited patiently outside tapping his fingers on the railing, until he heard her speak up.

"Rigsby, can you help me?" She called from the living room. He walked quickly through the door. Her apartment was just as he pictured it, white walls with hardwood floors, and a navy blue rug. As she handed him the necklace, he fumbled with the clasp; it being way smaller than his fingers. She could feel his hand brush the back of her neck, and she shivered. He noticed, but pretended not to.

The car ride was quiet, and they only made small talk. They chatted about the scenery, and about how nice the night was, and how much Grace liked these nights out with the team. Probably because sometimes she felt segregated back at the CBI building, when everyone else was doing fieldwork.

They met up with Jane and Lisbon outside of the rink around 10:45. They were late because of traffic, and the fact that they had to pull over to get Rigsby something to eat on the way. The cold air hit the team as they opened the doors to the rink. Lisbon rushed out ahead to talk to the manager with Jane on her heels. Van Pelt and Rigsby followed slightly slower, viewing how empty the place was and how little light there was on the ice. Lisbon stood emotionless talking to Mr. Verna, who claimed that he hadn't seen Nicole Anderson in over 3 weeks. She just stopped coming in when he fired a worker that she was apparently friends with, or overly friendly with, as Rigsby pointed out. Lisbon turned to Jane expressing how she still had a gut feeling it was Nicole's father.

"Listen, she was coming out of an alley. She was a troubled teen, and he caught her after she snuck out. Maybe he just lost it."

"No, he didn't seem nearly psychotic enough to kill his own child." Jane insisted.

"Jane, he has a temper, and he drinks. He caught her coming out of a club and he hit her a little to hard. The wife's admitted he's hit her." Lisbon prodded.

"Lisbon, just because you have a personal hatred of alcoholics, doesn't mean he killed his daughter."

"I just don't want to rule him out. Especially after the accident a few months ago." Lisbon stated blankly.

"The girl fell while hiking. And hit her head. He tried to stop the bleeding, he is a doctor." He replied.

"I don't know Jane, his being a doctor is suspicious enough. He'd know how to...dispose and all that." Lisbon said making a face.

"The neighbor girl wasn't disposed of, he immediately called 911 and stayed with her until they got there. She died at the hospital. No, I think it's someone else." Jane insisted.

"If it were a serial killer we'd have another body by now." Lisbon chirped.

"Unless he's waiting for us to find Nicole's body. All we know is that she lost too much blood to be alive, we don't know where she is. We don't even know where to begin to look. Everything within a 30 mile radius has been searched." Jane said matter-of-factley.

Rigsby piped in from behind Jane, "Maybe he's one of those freaks that need media attention."

"Or it's just the dad, and he's laying low." Lisbon added quickly. Jane pointed out that they weren't going to find her tonight, so they should enjoy the break. But they would get back to work first thing on Monday. Lisbon knew they all needed a break, but still had an queasy feeling in her stomach.

Mr. Verna said that they could use the rink until midnight, since he had to do paperwork anyway. Jane, who grew up living beside the balding man, patted his shoulder and thanked him. Jane always did have the best connections.

"I'm not putting those on." Rigsby griped awkwardly pointing toward the ice-skates. Jane rolled his eyes.

"Have some fun, Rigsby. It's just the four of us, and I won't even tell Cho." Jane said smiling.

"I will." Lisbon piped in from the bench. She stood up looking at Jane. She pushed past him toward the ice. He followed her instantly.

"Jane's skating, come on." Van Pelt said in a prying tone. "The place is closed, no one is going to see you."

"Jane's girly." He replied shyly.

"Rigsby, come on. Please. For me?" She smiled sweetly. He let out a sigh. She just had to say it. How could he possibly say no to that face?

**Okay, another chapter done...and the beginning of a real plot. Let me know what you think. I was getting tired (not that they're not fun and make sense since California is by the beach) of them going to beaches. I wanted to mix it up a bit. Did you know there are more ice-skating rinks in California than there are in Pennsylvania. There are. Anyway, we know Rigsby can swim, but can he skate? **


	4. Chapter 4

**Reviews are good, good things. Thanks again. **

**-A special thanks to those who offered to be beta readers. I may be taking you up on that offer in later chapters. **

**-Oh, and I wasn't intending on making any enemies when I said I wanted to see them doing something different on their off time (aside from the beach). I read and loved all of those stories, and just wanted to try something else. And since I sensed disappointment over the lack of a shirtless Rigsby, I'll see what I can do in a later chapter. :)**

**"****I know those rules. I know which ones not to break, and how to get around everything else."**

**-David Gross**

"Idon'tknowhowtoskate." He mumbled quietly.

"Is that all?" She asked smiling brightly. She instructed him to grab a pair of skates; he was going to learn how tonight.

"Well get your shoes off, come on, you have to help a little." She said laughing. She immediately dropped to her knees and began lacing.

_Don't let Jane see. Please God, don't let Jane see. Please._ This was probably the most uncomfortable position he had ever been in. He just kept looking at the ceiling because he knew that if he looked to the left, he had a view of Lisbon and Jane. And if he looked down, well he really, _really_ wanted to look down, but he wouldn't let himself. He didn't want to have to explain himself if she caught him. Here she was being amazing, and he's looking down her shirt like a typical guy.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed suddenly as she pulled the strings with all her might. A smile tugged at her lips.

"Well if you don't get them tight enough you'll break your ankle. And then what good are you?" She said playfully.

"It didn't hurt, it just surprised me." He said trying to cover it up. She mouthed a silent "oh".

"Well come on then." She said as she reached the ice. He looked around, making sure no one was watching. He hobbled clumsily right to the edge and looked at her unsure. She reached out her hand toward him. His heart skipped a beat, he really did love this woman. Taking her hand he felt the floor dissolving behind him and the slippery ice under his feet. He immediately grabbed for the wall. After a few laps he began to inch a little further away from the wall and a little closer to Van Pelt, who was enjoying the closeness a little too much. Jane and Lisbon skated playfully in the back corner of the rink. Jane pinned her up against the wall, but Lisbon was way to fast for that. She ducked under his left arm and skated away, all the while maintaining the smirk she was famous for.

"Look at them." Lisbon said motioning to Rigsby and Van Pelt, who were holding hands.

"What am I going to do with them, Jane? It's against the rules, if Minelli finds out I'm letting this go on...Oh, I don't even want to be in that room."

"Lisbon, you know they'll be fine at work. Let them have some fun. He loves her...and she's considering...it. Would you honestly let rules stop you from love?" He questioned.

"Yes." She replied quietly.

"Liar."

Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"It's not even like a big rule. It's not like they're betraying the force. It's like going to red when you only have a purple square in Candy Land. It's only cheating a little. I bet you cheated in Candy Land." Jane said, flashing her his signature grin.

"I never cheated in Candy Land." She replied raising her eyebrow.

"Never got shoots but went up the ladder?" He probed.

"No."

"Never hid the old maid?"

"No."

"You never made up words in Scrabble, and then fought like all hell that they were real?"

"No!"

"Liar." He decided.

On the other side of the rink Rigsby was lost in conversation. Van Pelt was telling him about the winters in Iowa, and about skating when she was small. And then he felt it. He felt his feet start to slip and his legs go above his head. Boom. He fell right down on the ice, taking a shocked Van Pelt down with him. Rigsby didn't want to open his eyes. He could hear Jane laughing from across the rink. Only when he felt cold hands on his cheeks, did he chance opening his eyes. Van Pelt, who was lying awkwardly on top of him, looked at him clearly worried. When he let out a small laugh, she sighed in relief and smiled softly. She was far to close to him. This was by far the most wonderfully awful thing he had ever seen. He wanted so badly to grab her and kiss the hell out of her, but his boss was skating 30 feet away. She waited, hoping he was going to, hoping that he was just going to let go and risk it. She had never been so sure of what she wanted before now. The first time he kissed her she hadn't had a choice, not that she didn't reciprocate with vigorous enthusiasm, but this time she was ready. And after thirty seconds of blank staring, she got up. She reached down offering him a hand.

"Come on, I think you've had enough for one day, and I need coffee." He gladly took her hand, but still struggled to get up. He encountered the same problem as before while she was unlacing his skates, and decided yet again, it was best to stare at the ceiling. Van Pelt waited patiently on Rigsby, who ran to the coffee machine in Mr. Verna's office. Mr. Verna laughed and was happy to comply to the agents wishes. Sitting in the stands drinking coffee, the two watched Jane and Lisbon skate.

"And Cho laughs at me....look at him following her around like a sick puppy." Rigsby commented.

"It's sweet. Even though he drives me insane, he deserves to be happy after all he's gone through. And so does she." Van Pelt replied quietly.

"It's weird. That's like... Mulder and Scully hooking up." He said blankly. Van Pelt shook her head.

"Mulder and Scully _did_ hook up. Didn't you watch the show? She had his child." She replied, finding the previous statement amusing.

"I watched season one. I don't like that paranormal crap." He said waving his hands like a ghost.

"You didn't mind Tangent Dove, and she was spooky." She challenged.

"She wasn't spooky, spooky, she was just Wicca. That's not like aliens and ghosts. But some people are really into that paranormal crap...like people that watch all 100 seasons of The X-Files." He explained, hinting toward the red haired agent, who only rolled her eyes in response.

"Well it's probably just one of those alternative lifestyles, like Star Trek or yoga." She said, with a smile tugging at her lips. She sat smiling, trying so hard not to laugh. He shoved her playfully on the shoulder. After a long pause Rigsby broke the silence.

"So, are you any good at it?" He asked shyly.

"At what?" She said in reply, forgetting what they had been laughing about.

"The whole yoga thing." He confirmed, blushing slightly.

"I don't know." She laughed.

"Well that means you're either really good, or really bad." He prodded. She gave him a lopsided grin.

"What I do at home is personal."

"So I'll tell you something personal about me, and then you let me know if you're a level 0 or a level 10. Okay?" He asked, now wanting to know. It was going to make his fantasies all the more vivid if he knew. He always hoped that if they ever did get together, it would start out like the end of "Angels and Demons".

"Okay, but I get to pick." She proposed.

"Fine." He agreed, expecting her to ask immediately. She got up and walked toward the door. He took the time to let Lisbon know they were leaving, but only got a hand wave in response, as Jane continued to chase her around the rink. He caught up with Van Pelt, and opened the door for her as she reached his car. She was fairly quiet on the ride home except for the occasional six word conversation. He walked her to her door when they reached her house.

"Thank you for teaching me how to skate...kind of. You're a great teacher, I'm just clumsy." He added in quickly. She smiled, looking at her feet and then glancing at his face.

"Tell me, what is it that you most want to be doing right now?" She asked quietly.

"What?" He questioned, taken completely off guard.

"That's your personal question. It can be anything in whole world."

"Um...I...ah...I." He stammered. She inched closer to him.

"Yes..." She questioned.

"I...um." He couldn't even believe that this is what she picked. It's not like he hadn't been asked this questioned before. It's not like she didn't already know the answer. It's not like the whole bloody universe didn't know the answer. She surprised him by placing a hand on his chest. He looked down at it and then back up at her. Her eyes studied his face, but remained wide and hopeful. Finally he started to mumble out an answer.

"It's late." He said softly. Her eyes were becoming glassy, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, I'll see you at work on Monday." She replied refusing to look at him. She watched him walk towards his car, seemingly unfazed. She however, slid against the inside of her door hugging her knees, and wiping her eyes. She knew that it was selfish of her to act this way, but she felt he had put her through a lot in the last nine months. He told her he loved her, sure he was heavily medicated, but she still had to live with it. She had to go to work everyday knowing that, and trying so hard not to act on it. Then, he had to go and be all sweet, and almost got himself killed with stupid Dan. So now, she had to live knowing that her crappy choice in boyfriends almost got him killed. And to top it all off, he kissed her. He kissed her in front of her team, and then, he conveniently doesn't remember it. Sad part is, she does. So she has to act like that wasn't, quite possibly, the best kiss of her life. And then there was Jane. Oh, she was going to kill Jane. How dare he tell her all this crap, make her take down her fences, so she can sit and cry. She had promised herself that she would never end up sitting like this again, and yet here she was.

**Okay, another chapter down. I know, I know no kiss yet. All in good time. Don't worry the next chapter is pretty funny (If I get an opinion), and Van Pelt will be fine. The start of the next chapter is going to be different....this is a pre-warning. Oh, and I know some of you are going "How did_ Angles and Demons_ end?" If It's you're thing I suggest you read it (It was very good). If not, and you're wondering, look it up, or ask and I'll be glad to explain. I put it in there for those who read the book and got a laugh out of it. :P **


	5. Chapter 5

**I promised that Grace would be fine. Note that, like I said, Rigsby making her mad was essential for the plot. **

**Thank you, again, for the reveiws. They keep me going, and keep me adding things that I wouldn't normally think to add. :) **

**I warned you that the first part of chapter 5 was going to be a little different...**

"I don't worry about crime in the streets; It's the sidewalks I stay off of."

-- Johnson Letellier

It was raining. To be more specific, it was absolutely pouring. The wind was starting to pick up, and the once grey sky looked as though it had been smeared with oil. It was hazy, and too dark to see. It was then, that the man with the mask spotted his next victim. She wasn't unlike the first, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was walking slowly down a back alley in high heeled shoes, and holding red clutch. She had just come out of a nightclub, but he expected she was much to young to be legally drinking. He decided then that the first time was much too rushed. He was going to have fun with this one. He was going to take his time with her. He didn't give the Anderson girl enough time to beg. He had only done his work and hid her body, no one would remember him. No one would ever find her. And what fun is a cold case? He would much rather keep things fresh. That's why this time he had something special in store for the CBI. The girl barely had time to scream before his hand slid over her mouth and she was dragged into the back of a van.

* * *

Rigsby hadn't slept all night. He cursed himself for not telling her exactly what she meant to him. But he was so afraid that even if he admitted everything, that she would have just given him a fake answer. He didn't want to pressure her into anything she wasn't ready for, he would never say _I love you_ with out meaning it, and he hoped that she wouldn't either. He was so worried that if they had kissed for real, she would end up regretting it by morning. Still, he felt like the biggest jerk in the world. For nine months he had been waiting for her to look at him like that, to return those feelings, and when the opportunity presented itself, he chickened out. Plain and simple, Jane was right, he was a mouse.

His phone buzzing on the night stand woke him up. He saw that Lisbon was calling from work. Why was she at work on a Saturday?

He answered groggily, "Yeah, Boss?"

"Rigsby, I need you to pick up Van Pelt and get in here as soon as possible." Lisbon said instantly.

"What's going on Boss?" Rigsby asked, after hearing how frantic Lisbon sounded.

"Just get down here. Jane and Cho are on there way too." Lisbon said speaking quickly.

"Boss, tell me you're alright first." He said sternly.

"JUST GET DOWN HERE." She stressed.

"On my way, Boss." He said, throwing on a t-shirt and jeans. He grabbed his key's and practically ran out the door. Rigsby all but sped to Van Pelt's apartment.

The early morning sun was peering into the bay windows opposite Grace's kitchen table. She stood in the living room, in the one spot that wasn't covered by a navy blue rug, and stretched her arms over her head. She was following the woman on the 20 inch tv screen. She bent down to touch her toes, letting all the muscles in her back relax. It felt good to stretch, since she had spent the better part of the night curled up in a ball, with her knees tucked to her chin. She returned to sunshine warrior pose, as the coffee pot beeped, signaling it was done brewing. She paused the DVD and poured herself cup. Bringing the coffee cup to her mouth she inhaled the aroma, and she instantly relaxed. Coffee. That's all she needed, coffee. No, she didn't need a man...a big, strong, really cute, man.....no....no.... she just needed another cup of Folgers.

Returning to the living room, she hit play on the remote. Next up was plow pose, which was quite possibly her least favorite. She never was a fan of being upside down, so she never rolled clear over. She flipped her legs up, and holding her hips with her hands, she let her elbows rest on the mat. She was told that this position was supposed to boost her metabolism. She didn't buy it.

_Don't look in the window again. Do not look in the window again. Knock on the door, you idiot. Lisbon needs us...she's waiting. How is she even doing that? Oh my God, how is that even possible? Stop, stop looking at her. _Rigsby stood on the outside her door, trying so hard not to peer through the window for the 90th time. He was already late, and if she caught him looking at her...oh my, it wouldn't be good. He already knew he was skating on thin ice with her after last night, he didn't need the pervert persona working against him too. But still, that was his woman in there, with her legs in the air, in all her glory. Then he laughed and shook his head. Who was he kidding? His woman. He didn't even have the courage to kiss her. Finally he knocked, knowing if he didn't interrupt her soon, when he did, she would be bound to notice a few things. He could tell she was mad when she answered the door.

"Rigsby? What are you doing here?" She asked suddenly feeling self-conscious. She realized exactly what she was wearing, which was comprised of nothing more than a pair of black shorts and a white tank top.

It's not as if he hadn't pictured her in less, but right now, even still covered, it was 10 times better than any of his fantasies. His mouth went dry and his palms started to sweat, and he instantly ran his hand though his hair.

"Lisbon needs us...um....now." He stuttered. She was looking at him strangely and was relieved that he finally said something.

"Can I at least put on real pants?" She asked, not knowing exactly how urgent the situation was. Rigsby nodded.

"You can come in. It will only take a minute." She told him, gesturing to the kitchen. He smiled and followed her into the house. She left immediately to go back the hall to change.

"Hey, Van Pelt, can I have a glass of water?" He called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, go ahead, glasses are in the first cabinet on the left." She yelled back. He needed water...cold water...and inhaled an entire glass in under a minute. He turned to see Van Pelt standing in the door frame watching him. She still had the tank top on, but changed into jeans and tennis shoes. He hadn't seen those jeans before, probably a good thing, since he had to stop himself from tearing them off her now. He didn't know if she bought them looking like they'd been roughed up, or if they'd just gotten that way over time, but they were showing just enough skin for him to have to turn away and count to ten.

"Rigsby, what is with you today? Let's go." She said, and all but dragged him to the car. He sat frozen, not talking, and looking only straight ahead. She had noticed how he had looked at her, with an animal-like lust, but she refused to acknowledge it. Feeling that whatever was going on with_ him_, it served him right, after what he put her though in the last 12 hours.

* * *

They pulled into the station at what seemed to be warp speed. She leapt out of the passenger side door, with him following closely behind her. Lisbon was at her desk surrounded by Jane, Cho, and even Virgil Minelli.

"Boss, what is it? What's going on?" Van Pelt asked after seeing Lisbon's face. She was paler than normal and looked as though she couldn't get a full breath.

"It wasn't the dad." Lisbon stated slowly. Jane pulled the two late agents aside to fill them in.

"Lisbon came in this morning to keep looking at the Anderson case. She said she just couldn't get rid of this sick feeling in her stomach. When she got here, she found a letter on her desk addressed to her. She opened it immediately, not thinking anything of it. It was a note with letters cut from newspaper clippings, detailing how Nicole Anderson died. The killer was also nice enough to send us a map of the county with turn by turn directions to her body. It was marked in blood." Jane said finishing and walking toward his couch.

"Nicole Anderson's blood?" Rigsby asked immediately. Cho shook his head.

"No."

"He has another girl." Van Pelt concluded.

"Do you think she's alive?" Rigsby asked quietly. Cho shrugged.

" It wasn't enough blood to tell. It was more like someone pricked her finger and ran it across the map. And there hasn't been anyone reported missing so far, so we don't even know who we're looking for."

"She's alive." Jane stated simply. Everyone turned to look at him. Lying on his couch, he began to explain.

"Well think about it. He obviously wouldn't tell us where Nicole's body is for no reason. He likes the chase. He gets off on the excitement of knowing that we could catch him at any moment. The first time he killed someone he did it instantly, he did it sloppy. This time he's getting better. He's taking his time, he's keeping it clean."

"So what do we do now? Boss?" Rigsby asked, looking to Lisbon for answers. This wasn't how it normally happened. Normally they had bodies. They had evidence. It felt like a hopeless situation. No one knew who the new girl was. They didn't know where he abducted her from. All they knew was that according to the blood on the map, she existed. How do you send forensics out to search, if you don't even know where to tell them to look? This girl could be anyone, maybe she was connected to Nicole. Maybe she was just someone walking down the street. No one's reported her missing, so it's probably not anyone terribly young. Nicole Anderson was 19, but she still lived at home, someone knew she was missing. What if this new victim didn't have anyone to know she was gone?

"Rigsby, take Jane and go talk to Nicole's family again. Make sure no one else they know has gone missing. None of Nicole's friends, cousins...anything like that. I doubt it, but it won't hurt to try. Cho and I will go meet up with the county police. We need to find her body," she said pointing to the map, "her family deserves to know what happened to her. Plus maybe he's left us something else." Everyone nodded in response.

"What about me, Boss?" Van Pelt asked suddenly.

"Stay here and man the phones, someone has to know this girl. The minute anything is reported, you call me." Lisbon demanded. She sounded angry at Van Pelt for not just assuming that's what she would be doing, but knew that it was just her anxiety. She saw that Van Pelt looked embarrassed for not automatically assuming her position, and smiled quickly at the young agent, letting her know that it wasn't her fault.

**So, we now have a killer, a missing girl, a body, a map, and a little bit of smut to help keep everyone happy! Sounds like a good mix. **


	6. Chapter 6

**At first I said that I was perfectly happy if only a few people reveiwed. Since then, I have realized that reviews are wonderful, wonderful things. Addictingly wonderful, really. How are we feeling about this case (I'm more of a fluff writer, but I thought I'd give it a whirl)? **

"No one keeps a secret so well as a child."

--Victor Hugo

"What's wrong?" Patrick Jane asked suddenly. He and agent Rigsby had been stuck in traffic for the past fifteen minutes. Rigsby, who had barely said a word the entire ride, was looking more agitated by the second.

"What? Oh, nothing." Rigsby said after a slight delay. Jane rolled his eyes.

"What did you do to her?" He asked outwardly. Rigsby shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, obviously you've offended her somehow. You two haven't spoken all morning. She's barely looked at you. I mean, you've been staring, as normal; but how could you not be while she's in those jeans. I'm not even the one who has feelings for this woman, and..._wow_." Jane continued, knowing that the last statement would hit a nerve. Rigsby, suddenly growing jealous, looked as though he wanted to grab the curly blonde by the collar, and toss him from the moving car.

"I didn't do anything to her." Rigsby said settling down, after he got the "no offense" gesture from Jane.

"So then what didn't you do?" Jane asked, quickly sneaking a finger over to press the lock button on his door.

"I don't know, she's...I just never know what she wants." Rigsby stuttered out.

"Well, are you paying attention to what she's saying?" Jane inquired .

"Of course I am!" Rigsby all but shouted back.

"So, what did she tell you the other night?" Jane prodded. Rigsby quickly reiterated the entire conversation they had, leading up to her question.

"Then she turns and out of the blue asks me "what I most want to be doing right then." I didn't know what to say. I mean, I know what I most wanted to be doing, but I don't think she would have liked it. I mean good God, you can't just tell someone that stuff, can you? She'd have slapped me or something."

"Come on, Rigsby. You may have been thinking that, but what did you really want to be doing most? You love her way to much to answer, "Jump your bones right here on the kitchen table." Come on, you kissed her when I asked you. But you never actually stated that kissing her was what you wanted to do most. It was the way you kissed her. You did it with passion, because for one moment you were brave enough to tell her how you felt." Jane finished, and looked at Rigsby who was blushing furiously. He didn't respond to Jane, he just kept to himself in thought. Finally Jane prodded again.

"So what did you tell her?" Jane asked

"I just told her it was getting late." Rigsby said letting out a sigh.

"But see, you aren't listening to her. She told you exactly what she wanted. She asked you that question for a reason. She was reassuring you. You let her down, Pal."

"I didn't mean to. I was just so worried that she would regret it later. Once we...consciously...do anything there's no going back to just co-workers, I don't know if she gets that. And I want her to understand that sooner rather than later. I don't want our first...everything's...to be meaningless once she figures out we can't go back. Once she realizes we'll have to tell Lisbon.... once she realizes that I'll have to leave and go back to arson.. I couldn't take it if she decided to blame herself. I just don't want to see her upset." He finished sincerely. Jane understood why he did it, and in a way was proud of him. He really did love her. But he also realized that his judgment was off.

"So, you'd rather her be unhappy then?" Jane quizzed. Rigsby shook his head. "You need to quit worrying about Lisbon. She is the least of your worries. When and if something happens, we'll deal with it. You need to get her back, because you have her feeling rejected, and she's already emotionally repressed. She trusted you and you messed up...you had good intentions, but you still messed up." Jane insisted. Rigsby could only nod his head in response. He knew Jane was right.

"So what now?" He asked Jane, hoping that he could tell him the answer. Jane smiled.

"I already told you the key concepts in seducing women...love and affection." Rigsby rolled his eyes, similarly to the first time Jane gave him that speech.

"I still don't see a crowd of women following you around." Rigsby said slightly laughing.

"Well no, but I have one less woman mad at me than you have mad at you." Jane replied smartly.

The conversation ended there. They had pulled into the Anderson's driveway, and were mentally preparing to possibly give the family bad news for the second time in a month. Rigsby's phone rang loudly, breaking the silence.

"Is it our wayward lover?" Jane joked.

"Not mine." Rigsby teased, causing Jane to turn slightly pink.

"Yeah, Boss?" He answered. Jane sat, only getting broken pieces of the conversation.

"Alright, Boss. No, no don't make a special trip out here, we'll let them know. Did you send the information to Van Pelt? Yeah, Boss. No problem. Yes, I'll tell him. No, I won't let him offend any of them. Okay, we'll meet you back at the station when we're done. Bye, Boss." He said finishing.

"They found Nicole's body?" The consultant asked sheepishly. Rigsby nodded his head.

"The map led them right to it." Both men shook their heads getting out of the car. A middle aged white woman answered the door. She had short brown hair that stuck out in spots. She, who you could tell,once was a very attractive woman, now looked haggard at best. Her eyes were sunken in, she was pale and frail looking. She didn't even say "hello" when she answered the door, she only looked through them somberly, and brought the tea cup she was holding to her mouth. Rigsby was the first to speak.

"Mrs. Anderson? I'm Agent Rigsby from the CBI, this is our consultant Patrick Jane. We have some news."

"Good news or bad news?" She asked in a hopeless tone. Jane stepped in.

"Well your daughters body was discovered this afternoon. You already knew she was dead, so I guess that it couldn't get worse. Unless you wanted to cling to the warped hope that she may still be alive, and in that case, this is bad news." He said without hesitation. The woman almost dropped the teacup she had in her hand.

"Jane." Rigsby said as he lightly elbowed the blonde haired consultant. He should have known not to let him talk.

"Ma'am, I apologize for his lack of compassion, can we come in?" Rigsby asked nicely. The woman didn't give him an answer, she only turned and headed toward the coffee table. Jane, however, saw a small girl playing on a swing in the backyard.

"Go ahead and tell her Rigsby, I've said too much already for one day. I don't want Lisbon too mad at me, when you tattle at the station. I'll be in the car." Rigsby peeked around the side of the house and saw the girl. He gave Jane a _sure you will_ look, and followed Mrs. Anderson to the couch opposite her.

Jane approached the girl with a kind smile. She looked at him quizzically. Jane laughed at the girls strange look. She was cute, probably five or six, with blonde french braids, and giant blue eyes. She had on a pink short sleeve shirt and denim overalls.

"Who are you?" She asked suddenly. He realized that her family had probably been stressing "stranger danger" so much over the past month, that the girl would be scarred for life.

"My name is Patrick Jane. I'm a consultant with the California Bearuo of Investigation." He stated, showing his ID.

"The police?" She asked, not fully understanding what he said.

"Yeah, like the police." He said clearing it up for her. She smiled realizing that the police were on the list of people that were safe to talk to.

"Can I swing with you?" He asked her quietly. "It looked fun." She smiled a toothy smile and took him by the hand to the swings.

Sitting on the swing beside her, he asked, "Can I ask you some questions about you're sister?" She nodded, probably knowing that this was coming.

"Where was your sister going the night she went missing?" The small girl shrugged her shoulders. He noticed the necklace around her neck had her name engraved in it.

"Sophie, you can tell me the secret. I know you know where she was going that night. You probably caught her sneaking out. It was late, you were tired, but you heard her window open, or her drawer slam. You came to her room and saw her." He inquired.

"I heard her down stairs. I heard the front door open, and I went down to see what was going on. I was real quiet not to wake Mom and Dad. Dad has to work early and he's mad when he gets woke up." She said looking at the dirt.

"So what did she tell you? Where was she going?" She didn't want to respond and only shook her head.

"I promised I wouldn't tell. You shouldn't break promises." She replied, putting a finger to her lips.

"What if I tell you a secret?" Jane said to the small child. She thought about it, and then nodded her head okay.

"But this secret has to just be between us for now, okay?" He said smiling and holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Right now, the bad man that took your sister, has another girl. Some other little girl like you is going to be without her sister. You need to tell me where Nicole was going, so maybe we can find her." He said, as her face got fully afraid. He knew she probably didn't like to hear about "the bad man," but hoped that knowing someone else would lose a loved one would make her open up.

"She said she was going to some new club. I don't know the name, I don't even know where it is. She said that it doesn't open until late, and that she'd be okay because she was meeting her friends there." She said looking distressed. Jane put a hand on the girls shoulder.

"Did she walk or did someone pick her up?" He asked. She thought about it for a minute.

"She walked. I didn't see any lights outside. Does that help?" She asked hopefully.

"You were very helpful." He answered and smiled at her. He pulled out a flower from inside his jacket, and put it in the girls braid. She smiled at him and said thank you. Just then Rigsby walked out of the house and signaled for Jane to hurry up. He patted her head and walked towards the car.

"So, what did you find out?" Jane inquired. Rigsby shook his head.

"She said that no one else that they know has gone missing, no relatives, no friends, nothing. It means our killer is picking these girls at random." He concluded.

"No, he's not." Jane argued. Rigsby stared at him, with an almost frustrated expression.

"Why not?" He asked giving into Jane's know-it-all attitude. Jane smiled slyly and began to speak.

"Because I just found out where Nicole Anderson was the night she died." Jane answered smugly. He was about to explain, when Rigsby's phone started to ring.

"Yeah, Boss. Okay, Boss." He said closing the phone.

"She didn't happen to be at that new club on Wilkes Avenue, did she?" He asked, as Jane nodded in response.

"That would make sense since we found her blood three blocks away. He grabbed her, she fought, he slit her throat and dropped her out of the car. That's how her left hip was shattered."

"Lisbon want's us to meet back at the station as soon as possible." Rigsby concluded, and pulled out of the Anderson's driveway.

**Okay chapter six is done. How do we feel? Do we still like it? I know, I know not a lot of Van Pelt in this one, but she'll be in the next chapter along with some more Cho. And some more fluff to come, also. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow, thanks again for the reviews. I'm very glad that all of them are so bright and sunny, but criticism is good too! I'm a fan of constructive criticism. More on the case, more plot, and a little more fluff...because it's the glue that holds the story together. Most likely gorilla glue, not crappy craft glue. **

Information is a source of learning.

But unless it is organized, processed, and

available to the right people in a format for decision making,

it is a burden, not a benefit.

**-- **William Pollard

"Her name is Maya Offerman. She's 17 years old. She's been missing since early this morning. Her mother didn't even know she was gone; until one of Maya's friends called her and spilled about how they had snuck out last night. She said she and Maya had gotten into a fight and Maya left. She said that she had looked everywhere, but couldn't find her, and wanted to make sure she made it home. Guess where they were last night?" Grace said, hanging up the phone as Rigsby and Jane entered the bullpen.

"The club on Wilkes Avenue...the new one...what is it called?" Cho stated from the corner.

"Taboo." Lisbon added.

"Ironic." Cho replied, expressionless.

"What the hell are these girls doing at this night club? They're too young to drink." Rigsby said slightly upset. Van Pelt was the first to speak up.

"Well they're young and naive. What can you expect?"

"So you were running around night clubs at 17 years old?" He asked sounding slightly irritated.

"_No I wasn't_, but then again, we didn't have many night clubs in Iowa." She bickered back.

"Ah, the joys of young love." Cho intersected.

"Shut up, Cho." Rigsby, said sharply. Lisbon didn't say a word, but looked at her team with a warning expression.

"Sorry, Boss." Van Pelt said apologetically. Rigsby shook his head at Lisbon, letting her know that he was sorry too.

"Okay, so all we know is that they were both taken from the same night club." Lisbon stated somberly.

"Did they find tire tracks out side of the club?" Rigsby asked.

"Yeah, they were skidded and were turning to the left." Cho answered quickly.

"He lives around here." Jane insisted.

"How do we know?" asked Van Pelt from her desk. Jane sighed, and rubbed his forehead.

"He knows the area. He knows where things are, and what time these places close. He has to be from around here, I would say just out of driving distance. Somewhere either secluded or in a house with a basement or bomb shelter." Rigsby was about to ask why, but Cho answered before he got a chance.

"He didn't take Nicole, but took the new girl. Someone would see her...hear her...or something. He'd have to have some place to keep her." Van Pelt brought up a map of the area on her computer and started looking for neighborhoods with a large distance between houses. The team gathered around her as she announced that she may have found something. Lisbon stood to her left, Cho behind her, and Rigsby to her right. Jane never moved from his spot on the couch, but continued to throw commentary in here and there when he felt it was needed. Jane gave Rigsby the nudging look that provoked him to start rubbing tiny circles on Van Pelts right shoulder. Instead of the normal, warm smile he would have usually received, she only straightened and ignored him. Lisbon seemed not to notice, but Cho let out a hurmph and rolled his eyes. Van Pelt wanted to give in. She wanted to sigh, and relax, and take the hand that was touching her to her lips, and let him know that she couldn't stay mad at him. But she didn't. She just stayed strong and tried to keep her face serious, trying hard not to squeal because it tickled a little bit. He saw the serious look on her face and decided to stop, but not before letting out a groan of disappointment.

"Okay, here is the only neighbor hood in a 10 mile radius that has houses far enough apart not to notice, or hear, another person being held against their will." Van Pelt said, pulling up a map of the neighborhood.

"Okay, how about ones that have a basement or bomb shelter?" Jane said from the couch. She continued typing and answered, "17 houses have basements, 11 have bomb shelters, and 4 have both."

"How about residents? Anyone with a criminal record?" Lisbon asked suddenly.

"That will take time, Boss. That's a lot of background checks." Cho added from the side.

"Get started." Lisbon said. Time ticked by slowly. Lisbon began to pace the floor after the two hour mark passed. Jane had been asleep on his couch for over an hour; and Rigsby had ran to get coffee a little over twenty minutes ago. He returned just in time to hear Cho telling Lisbon that she was "wearing a hole in the floor". Rigsby sat a cup of coffee down beside Van Pelt's fingers, which were impatiently tapping the top of the desk. Again, he normally would have gotten that warm smile that melted his heart. He would have seen dark eyelashes bat over chocolate colored eyes, which would in turn, make him want to devour her even more. But not today. Today, she just wrapped her fingers around the cup without a second thought. She gave him a half smile but never actually spoke a "thank you". Oh he was in trouble and he knew it. His poor, sweet Grace was hurting, and it was all his fault. He never meant to hurt her, in fact, if the entire team wasn't watching, he would probably hit something. Anything to make himself hurt as much as she hurt because of him. He never understood why people did that stuff, like punch walls when they were upset, but today he understood.

"Okay, Boss. There are five people in that general area with a known criminal record. Two attempted thefts, one drunk and disorderly conduct, one DUI, and one reckless endangerment." Van Pelt said suddenly.

"Narrow down to the drunk and disorderly conduct, and reckless endangerment." Lisbon said as she stopped pacing and all but ran to the computer screen.

"Curtis Lindgren, 45, did 3 months for drunk and disorderly conduct. He got drunk in '92, and hit the bartender at Max's Pub with a barstool. He knocked...he knocked him unconscious." Van Pelt replied shaking her head. Sometimes she wondered how these people made it be 28 years old.

"Okay, next." Lisbon, said fanning her hand in a "move along" motion.

"Craig Dawson, 26, had a party at his house in 2007, where he served alcohol to minors. They ranged from 14-17. He served a six months probation and was ordered to anger management classes after one of the girls tried him for attempted rape." Van Pelt said, looking up at Lisbon who was looming over her chair.

"Were the charges dropped?" Cho asked.

"Yeah. Apparently there was no evidence, and the girl had been drinking. Police just figured she wanted to take some of the attention off herself after going to this party. I mean these kids weren't the only ones there, there were 50 plus people at the party, and he claims that they showed up saying they were all eighteen. He threatened her, however, after the fact. So in turn the judge ordered him to anger management classes, after he did the probation." She said, waiting on someone else to comment.

"Does he have a basement or bomb shelter, underground storage shed?" Jane asked from across the room. Van Pelt brought up satellite image of the area, and zoomed in on his house.

"Looks like he has a basement." She replied.

"Rigsby, take Jane and go check out our Mr. Dawson. I'm going to make a few phone calls, and then Cho and I are going to go speak with Mr. and Mrs. Offerman. I told them I would keep them informed. " Lisbon said quietly. Jane looked up groggily from his position.

"Let him take Van Pelt. I can listen for the phone...and she needs some fresh air. Plus, talking to angry people sounds terribly tedious, after all the excitement here today." Jane said smiling.

"Van Pelt, do you want to go?" Lisbon asked her. Lisbon decided that the rookie had been working hard lately. She did earn some field time after staring at that computer screen since seven o' clock this morning. Van Pelt nodded her head, enthusiastically. The thought of spending time alone with Rigsby scared her, but she normally didn't get to go places, and didn't want to waste the opportunity.

Jane stopped her on the way out the door as Rigsby headed to the car. She gave him that "don't even bother look".

"So..." He asked slyly. He got only a blank stare in return.

"He's an idiot. Most men are." He replied. He could tell that Grace felt bad. He could see it in her eyes how deeply she'd been hurt by Rigsby's sudden rejection. He knew that she'd put herself out there, against her better judgement, and had been shut down pretty hard.

"He did it for you." Jane said, almost not knowing what to say.

"You know what Jane? That was the last time I will ever listen to you. Next time you're feeling puckish, go talk to Cho." She replied sharply and walked away. Grace, who was normally a sweet and well natured person, had no problem talking back this time.

She walked slowly to the car. Rigsby was sitting in the drivers seat checking his watch and tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. He was nervous to say the least. He had to take calming breaths as she came out of the building. She opened the car door and slumped in beside him. As soon as they were on the highway Rigsby began talking.

**Chapter 8 coming up next! And there really is an end in sight! But first, a bumpkin, a little pain, and a whole lot of fluffy goodness. Again, this fic is my baby, but if there's something you want to see...telling me now would be a good thing. Reviewing is also a good thing...**


	8. Chapter 8

**We're getting pretty close to the end here. Probably only one more chapter after this, unless I decide to do a follow up and make it an even ten chapters. We'll see. If you guys really want it I'll consider extending it to ten. If not I'll stop at nine. It's kind of sad to see my major project coming to an end. Anyway, would have posted sooner but I ended up with some sort of cold thing. It was bad. Not swine flu, though, I didn't grow a tail. **

**I'm not one for adding my own characters into things like this...but I felt the need for a funny sort of something. And Craig Dawson fit in decently well, I thought. Plus, this chapter gets kind of... you'll need a bit of comic relief first. **

"To ease another's heartache is to forget ones own."

--Abraham Lincoln

"Grace, I um...I'm sorry about the other night." He admitted. She said nothing, staring only at the highway in front of them, that seemed to drop off in the distance. Rigsby, who was hoping that she would interject with a response, decided to quit talking. She did eventually say how nice the weather was, and answered simple yes or no questions. She hated making him feel bad, but he deserved it. He could never just let it go, no, he had to bring it up all over again, make her feel stupid all over again...make her re-live that moment where her heart shattered. It made her remember what happened before, and she hated thinking about that.

As they pulled into the driveway, they saw a man outside leaning over a fire pit. Rigsby and Van Pelt automatically looked at each other, thinking the worst...thinking that he may have been disposing of something...or someone. Rigsby leapt from the car, gun in hand, and ran towards the man, with Van Pelt close behind. The man put his hands above his head, dropping the pitchfork to the ground with a clank. Van Pelt was the first to flash her badge, with Rigsby following soon after.

"Are you Craig Dawson?"

"Yes, Sir...Ma'am. What's the problem officers?" The man asked with a slight drawl.

"What are you burning?" Rigsby asked in a rushed tone.

"Garbage...and some yard clippin's. We're not under one of those eco-watches are we? Shoot, I didn't even watch the news this morning." replied Mr. Dawson.

"It's not all burnt yet. Ya'll can take a look if ya want to. There's another pile of grass out back." He said motioning to the back of the property. Rigsby lowered his gun.

"What were you doing this morning, Mr. Dawson?" Van Pelt asked.

"Mowing the yard. Where do you think all the yard clippin's came from? For the police, ya ain't very smart. No offense, don't want to be arrested for assultin' an officer." He said in response to Van Pelt's question.

"Sure are pretty, though." He said after letting out a whistle. Van Pelt didn't seem terribly offended; she was used to getting those comments by now, but Rigsby's nostrils flared and his hands balled into fists. He looked as though he was fit to kill that hick. How dare he speak to her that way, without permission. Rigsby had to stifle the urge to hang that mouthy bumpkin up by his overalls, and force his straw hat down his throat. Van Pelt saw it. She knew it was coming and felt the urge to protect Mr. Dawson. Not that she appreciated the comments he was making, but he certainly didn't deserve whatever was going on in Rigsby's mind. At least not yet. She backed up a few steps, and standing in front of Rigsby, slowly reached behind her and took his hand in hers. The sudden contact startled him. He smiled while looking at their hands intertwined; he had never seen anything so perfect. They literally fit like puzzle pieces, and for a minute he thought that she looked as though she thought so too.

"Mr. Dawson, I wouldn't be making smart comments if I was in your position." Van Pelt said slightly edgy.

"And what position am I in there, Cagney?" He asked with a smirk. Rigsby's grip tightened, and she rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand as she kept talking.

"Mr. Dawson, we have reason to believe that you might be involved in a homicide and possible abduction." She said slightly grinning.

"Hey now Ma'am. You and Hercules back there have this all wrong. Hell, I didn't abduct anyone...and sure as the Lord, I didn't kill anyone. I haven't gotten in no trouble since my probation. I'm in counseling now, you know. I've been seeing Freud twice a week since last August." He replied, clearly starting to worry.

"How has the counseling been going?" Rigsby asked.

"Brings up my daddy issues, so it does. But by the time the sessions over, and a box of Puffs or two later, I feel fine. No more anger. I'm done with all that partying. I drink alone now." He said smirking.

"Mr. Dawson, do you have anyone who can account for your whereabouts last night?" Rigsby asked, clearly annoyed either by the man, or by the fact that Van Pelt had taken her hand back and placed it in her front pants pocket.

"Yeah, I was with my buddies. Jim, Jack...Morgan..." Van Pelt was about to ask for last names as Rigsby cut her off.

"Anybody who isn't an alcoholic beverage?" He asked, rolling his eyes.

"Just the dog, Buck, and the cows." Dawson said smiling.

"Doesn't help your alibi." Van Pelt said.

"You've got no proof, or you'd of had Buffo here cuff me." Dawson said suddenly.

"Okay," Van Pelt said softly. "But you're the one who has an attempted rape charge, sir, and we do have proof that whoever has our missing girl is in the area. It is a logical assumption."

"I don't quite understand what you're getting at, Sherlock." He asked.

"It means that if you don't spill whatever you know, or give me a good reason...Agent Rigsby is going to slap cuffs on you and take you back to the CBI building. And when you get there, you can sit in a small room with bad lighting, while an unenthusiastic Asian man asks you question upon question, until he gets fed up. Then, you can talk to our consultant, Patrick Jane, who will probably hypnotize you against your will to tell the truth. And then, Mr. Dawson, if Jane makes no progress, your fate will land in the hands of Agent Theresa Lisbon. Oh, and believe me, you really don't want to deal with her today." Van Pelt said smiling. Normally she wasn't so abrupt, but today she just felt like it.

Mr. Dawson looked around and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Feel free to search the house. You won't find any weapons in there. No warrant needed, Ma'am." He replied.

They searched the basement and found that there wasn't much down there aside from a washer and drier and old newspapers. Nothing to indicate that he was their guy. Mr. Dawson was acting awfully suspicious. He was pacing, and it was making Rigsby uncomfortable.

"Mr. Dawson, is there something that you want to tell us?" Rigsby asked out of the blue.

"No....well....I don't know if it means anything." He said in a hushed tone.

"Any information that you give us could help." Van Pelt added.

"Well...Listen, there's a guy that lives about a mile up the road. He hangs out at the bars down on Wilkes Avenue. I was down there about a month ago and saw him just sitting in his car...like he was waitin' for something. I was only down there to pick up a pizza from that place on the corner, but I knew it was him. His van has the front fender ripped off...you can tell it's his from a mile away. Then I hadn't seen much of him...but when he drove by the other day I heard something comin' from his van. It sounded like screamin', or cryin'or somethin', but I just assumed that it was one of his cats. He has like twenty of the little bastards, and there's always at least one travelin' with him. I don't know if it means anything, but the guy just gives off eerie vibes. He's not as charmin' as myself." He added at the end of his story.

"I'll need a name and an address." Rigsby said quickly, knowing that this could be it. They may have just found this girl."

"1123 Sanderson Road. Cordell......is his last name....what is it...Scott...Scott Cordell...that's it." Mr. Dawson stated.

"Stay in the general area, will you Craig?" Rigsby said, motioning to Mr. Dawson, who nodded.

The two all but ran to the car. Rigsby immediately called Lisbon's cell and told her about the situation. He was told to proceed with caution but wait for backup to go into the house. As they pulled up to the drive way. Rigsby looked at Van Pelt with complete sincerity in his eyes.

"We're going to get out an look around. See if we see or hear anything. As they got out of the car he pulled her closer to him.

"You haven't been in this kind of situation. This could be dangerous. You _will_ stay in the car." He told her possessively.

"You can't do that." She insisted. "If you're going in, so am I."

"Oh no you're not. You're going to sit in the car and wait for the backup." Rigsby said almost shouting. There was no way he was going to let her get hurt. If something happened to her...he would...he didn't even want to think about it. He just wanted to protect her, but she wasn't having any of it.

"You can't tell me that. You have no right to tell me what to do, contrary to popular belief, you're not my boss." She replied.

"No I'm not you're boss, but I outrank you, Rookie!" He said, running out of options. He didn't want to have to bring that up. He just couldn't let her go in there. He would much rather have her hate him and be safe than the other way around.

"Promise that you'll stay here and wait for back up." He said sternly, grabbing her arms and shaking her lightly.

"I'm your partner, I can't let you go in yourself." She said in response.

"I'm not going in until the back up gets here. I just want to look around. When they get here, you can come in with me. Deal?" He said holding out his hand.

"Fine." She said and turned back toward the car without shaking it. She was mad about the fact that she had to stay, considering that she never got to do anything exciting. She sat in the car with her knees leaning on the dashboard. Here she was again, waiting for the phone to ring, same old same old. As soon as she got comfortable, and stopped mumbling to herself about how Rigsby was still being a big, stupid, jerk, she heard a gun shot. She froze. She completely snapped out of her anger-driven state of mind...that was her man down there. She should have never let him go down there alone. She couldn't even believe that she agreed to stay behind.

She quietly shut the car door and snuck around the side of the house. She held her gun out in front of her, as far as her arms would stretch, but it was shaking due to the shear panic coursing through her system. If something happened to him, she would never forgive herself. She peeked around a rosebush at the corner of the property, and saw Rigsby crouched down behind the side of the porch. She looked in every direction but didn't see the shooter anywhere. As she made her way quickly to Rigsby, bullets seemed to fall from the sky. When he saw the man with the mask aim his 38 caliper towards Van Pelt, he leapt from his position, and automatically wrapped his arms around her, shielding every inch of her he could.

She heard Rigsby shout in pain, as the bullet pierced through his right shoulder. She could feel the blood seeping into her shirt, and she immediately dragged him, to the best of her ability, closer to the edge of the porch, and out of the gunfire. She held her hand on the wound, and sobbed into his other shoulder.

"Stay with me...come on hang on." She frantically whispered into his ear. "I'm sorry, I am so sorry." He was losing a lot of blood and was becoming lightheaded, but pushed himself up, shielding her still. She didn't want to let go of him, but she moved from underneath him, long enough to take aim and fire. She saw the man drop, and heard sirens coming from the driveway.

"We need an ambulance!" She screamed from the back, as the swat team arrived. They needed two by the time they found Maya Offerman. In a matter of five minutes Rigsby was loaded into an ambulance with Van Pelt taking the car and following close behind. She was mad and frustrated because they wouldn't allow her to ride in the ambulance. She understood that they needed to cram in paramedics, but when she looked into his eyes, he needed her. She sped down the highway wiping tears from her eyes the entire way.

**Wow! I'm feeling slightly teary eyed, anyone else? But, I think we all know that they are never going to hook up on a normal Tuesday afternoon. There's going to have to be some driving force. Bullets are pretty forceful, don't you think? I'm sorry, I didn't want to shoot him either! But it had to happen. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay...here we go...the possible ending. I feel like my baby's all grown up or something. Wow. **

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides.

And when it subsides you have to make a decision.

You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together

that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.

--Captian Corelli's Mandolin

Lisbon and Cho rushed into the waiting room, followed quickly by Mr. and Mrs. Offerman. They were escorted back to see their daughter, who had only minor injuries. Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief. They had found the girl. Her mood quickly changed as she saw Grace Van Pelt sitting in the corner of the room, wearing a bloody tank top and clutching a handful of tissues.

"Van Pelt, what happened?" Lisbon exclaimed.

"Rigsby got hit. It....it was my fault." She said through tears. Jane walked into the waiting room, just in time to hear her recount the events. Lisbon didn't say anything to comfort the crying agent. But comforting was never her strong point. Plus, they knew very well that they needed to wait for backup. Cho walked down to the food court to get Jane tea and Lisbon coffee. Lisbon went to the front desk to demand information on the wounded agent. You could hear her arguing from across the room. Telling them that she was with the CBI, and that she needed to know what was going on with her agent. The woman at the front desk only shushed her, and told her that she couldn't release any information at this time. Jane sat with Van Pelt, wishing there was something he could say.

"It wasn't your fault." He said softly. This only made the tears run faster, as she stared at the ceiling, trying to hold herself together.

"Yes it was. He told me to stay in the car, but I was too stupid to listen." She replied.

"It comes with the territory. There's always a chance that something will go wrong. It probably would have happened if you had listened anyway." He said with a comforting smile.

"He was covering me," she said as the put her head in her hands, "it should be me in there."

"He would never forgive himself if it was you laying in there." Jane pointed out. She let out a small laugh as she shook her head.

"Well partners or not, he didn't need to do that." She replied, being quickly cut off by Jane.

"You really believe he did it because you're partners?" Jane probed. She shook her head "no". She knew why he did it. It was the same reason she ran down that hill in the first place.

A small framed woman wearing blue scrubs, came out of the elevator across the room. She walked into the middle of the waiting room and asked "Which one of you is Grace?".

" I have someone in intensive care asking about you." She said, when Grace stood up. Grace looked at her and said a silent thank you.

"How is he?" She asked on the ride to the second floor.

"He won't let us put an IV in, until he sees you." She said with a hint of smile in her voice. Grace let out a sigh, at least he was alive. They'd find a way to deal with everything else later.

The white walls of the hospital did little to encourage her. There was hardly any color anywhere, except for the dark blue tiles every couple feet on the floor. She never liked hospitals, they were cold and un-welcoming. She stopped in front of room 212 and thanked the nurse for allowing her to see him. The nurse only grunted in response.

As she walked in, Rigsby was lying under white sheets, yelling at the band of nurses who were strapping him down.

"Sir you need an IV. You've lost a good bit of blood. Don't you want to get better?" One asked while holding the needle.

"I don't care about that. I just want to see her!" He bellowed, while struggling against five pairs of hands. Grace walked from around the curtain, and he stopped moving. His right arm was bandaged from his elbow to his shoulder. He laid completely still, and let the nurses fill his left arm with IV's. He had a few monitors hooked to his chest, one that she noticed was beeping. She didn't know much about medical equipment, but she decided that it was probably for his heart rate. The nurses walked out of the room shortly after, and she walked closer to him.

"Are you okay?" He asked her softly. She smiled and wiped another tear from her eye.

"You have blood on your shirt." He noted.

"That's from you." She said, and let out a small laugh. He mouthed an "oh".

"I was so worried about you. You didn't come with me in the ambulance. I thought maybe you were hurt too." He said, as she grabbed a tissue from the side stand.

"They wouldn't let me come. I begged them...I wanted to..." She said before breaking up.

"Why are you crying? You're far to pretty to be crying." He teased, and she laughed.

"It was my fault." She said slowly.

"No. No, don't you ever say that." He replied quickly.

"I should have stayed in the car." She argued.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said shooshing her. He pulled her down to his level where she, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around him. He moved his left arm as far as he could without ripping out IV's, and rubbed small circles on her lower back.

"This stuff happens sometimes. I don't want you to think for one minute, that it was your fault. You weren't the one firing at me." He said softly.

"No...but..." She said before he cut her off.

"No buts. I'm just glad it was me and not you." He said whole heartedly. He suddenly tensed. He felt her begin to move, letting her lips graze over his cheek. He felt, what seemed to be a hundred small kisses land on his face. He was in shock as one brushed the corner of his mouth. He felt as though he was on fire, like waves of electric were coursing through his system, leaving little tingles behind where her lips were. Suddenly, the door opened and they were greeted by Lisbon, Cho, and Jane. Jane stood at the by the window holding a pot with six white flowers. Grace looked at him quizzically.

"Rigsby, Grace forgot these downstairs when the nurse came to get her. I wanted to make sure you got them." He said, handing him the flowers.

"Thank you..." Rigsby said looking from Jane to Grace then back to Jane.

"She knew how much you liked tuberose's." Jane said, smirking. Rigsby immediately went red, suddenly understanding the inside joke. Then he looked back at Grace, who was just smiling innocently, probably because she just playing along, and had no idea there was anything more to it.

Lisbon ran over a hundred questions with Rigsby; starting from when he and Van Pelt got there, to when he fell.

"Well then, who shot Scott Cordell?" Cho asked immediately. Lisbon and Jane looked at Grace suddenly.

"I did." Grace said quietly.

"Nailed him right between the eyes, Boss. What a shot!" Rigsby said from the bed. Lisbon smiled, throughly impressed by the rookie agent. Jane just stood in the back smiling, he didn't want to ruin the moment. Just as a nurse brought in Rigsby's dinner, Lisbon stood and motioned for them to leave. She turned and asked Van Pelt if she was coming, but she only shook her head "no". Lisbon was about to rebut, mentioning the paper work that needed filled out, but Jane tugged her arm.

"Let her worry about it later." He told her quietly.

"But she shot someone and that paperwork has to be do--". Jane instantly cut her off.

"Later."

Van Pelt opened the container of pudding and brought a spoonful to Rigsby's mouth.

"Van Pelt, you don't have to feed me. I'm capable." He said smiling.

"How? You can't work either arm." She pointed out. He didn't argue. She was right, plus, this was much better than some male nurse feeding him.

"Dessert first?" He asked her in a mock-tone, though he was actually pretty shocked.

"I think you've earned it today. Plus, I like pudding." She said, snatching the bite that he wasn't taking and then laughing.

"Here." She said again, bringing the spoon to his mouth. His looked concentrated on her face.

"Grace?" He asked shyly.

"Yeah?" She answered.

"Ask me again." He said just above a whisper. She took a moment to think, and for a minute wasn't sure what he was talking about. And then it dawned on her, and she knew that the moment was coming.

"What do you most want to be doing right now?" She replied, blushing slightly. He looked around the room, not seeing anyone hanging around outside to yell at him. He motioned for her to come and sit on the bed. She moved quickly, sitting on the edge closest to him.

"When you asked me, you caught me off guard. I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't even know how to narrow it down." He said, his cheeks turning pink.

"I want to love you." He said, as she smiled back at him. "I want to be able to hold you, and, hug you, kiss you, protect you, and comfort you...I want to be loving you." He said. She smiled.

"Wayne?" She asked blushing wildly.

"Yeah?" He asked, half expecting her to move away.

"Are you done?" She asked instead. He chuckled and said "no".

"No. There's a million more things, most of them physical, that I want to be doing to you right now. But--" He continued, completely startled as she cut him off with her mouth. It started off slow and soft, but quickly grew to rushed and demanding. And just before Grace had time to swoop her tongue into his mouth, his heart monitor started beeping dangerously fast.

"Okay, ask me now." She said smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

"What do you want to do right now?" He asked, pinching his leg to make sure that this wasn't just a dream.

"I want to sit like this," she said, straddling his thighs, "and I want to kiss you until the nurses demand that I move." She said, as he looked back at her wide eyed, and let out a soft groan.

"Then, in a few days, once you're released, you're coming home with me. And I will make sure that you're nursed back to full health." She said kissing his nose lightly.

"Then what?" He asked, trying his luck.

"Then...then we go talk to Lisbon." She replied.

"I love you, Grace Van Pelt." He said with complete sincerity.

"I love you, Wayne Rigsby."

**So......what do we think? Was it worth the trip? **


End file.
